


Fallacious Deity

by Sinnatious



Category: Dissidia: Final Fantasy
Genre: Gen, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-07
Updated: 2012-05-07
Packaged: 2017-11-04 23:53:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/399605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinnatious/pseuds/Sinnatious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Cloud actually did kill Chaos in the twelfth cycle?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> (spoiler warning) This mostly came about due to Cloud's (heart-breaking) fight against Chaos in the Reports - where he gets his ass kicked in the cutscene directly after the fight, WHICH DIDN'T MAKE ANY SENSE because I had Cloud at Level 100 and on first hit I Omnislashed that bastard, and killed him in one strike despite forgetting to equip any accessories or gear. As always, I settle my grievances with fic.
> 
> Also, as a side note, Cloud gets an unfair distribution of awesome. Because I’m biased, and it suited the story. There are like twenty characters! I can't not play favourites.
> 
> There are about a hundred different ways this could have gone, and this is but one interpretation. Hope you like it.

 

 

“Impossible,” Chaos rasped, voice rumbling like earthen fire. “Who would have thought… that a mere _pawn_ , possessed such _power_ …”

His black and red wings spread – lava erupted around him, cracks of light shimmering across his arms, torso, face.

“Here ends… the conflict of the gods!”

The flames roared. The fire consumed him.

Then Chaos was no more.

Cloud dropped to a knee, shoulders heaving from exertion. Blood and sweat trickled down his face – irritably, he swiped it from his eyes.

He’d done it. He’d done the impossible.

He’d killed a god.

……………………

Blue and silver armour clanked with each heavy step, the shallow water lapping at his boots. A soft white light permeated the landscape; a peaceful silence settled over alien shapes.

A sliver of a memory slipped past – _purpose_ , resolve, and knowledge, instilled in him by means he could not name.

“Cosmos,” he murmured, and set out to find his goddess.

So began the thirteenth cycle.

……………………

“Chaos… has been defeated.”

The words, softly spoken, tolled across the landscape like a bell. A ripple passed through the nine gathered warriors – flinches and gasps of hope and shock.

Even the Warrior of Light could not hide his disbelief. “How?”

“An agent of Chaos, turned upon him.” Cosmos folded her pale hands in her lap, expression solemn and sky-blue eyes strangely sad despite the victory.

“No way!” Zidane yelped. “One of their _own_?”

“This is a fortuitous turn of events indeed,” the Warrior of Light pronounced.

"Does this mean we can go home?" Onion Knight asked eagerly.

Cosmos closed her eyes for a long moment, as though listening to a sound only she could hear. "Still, forces of disorder exist in this world." The words were but a musical whisper on the wind. "A thread of Chaos's power remains.”

“So we have to defeat Chaos’s remaining warriors, then,” Cecil surmised.

“No problem!” Bartz declared. “It’ll be _easy_!”

Squall rested his gunblade on his shoulder. “You shouldn’t take the other side so lightly. Or have you already forgotten one of them took out _Chaos_?”

_That_ cast an uneasy silence over the group.

The Warrior of Light drew his sword, and inclined his head respectfully towards his goddess. “It changes nothing of what we must do.” He turned to the rest of them. “Victory is close at hand. We must not delay.” __

……………..

“Chaos has been defeated,” Ultimecia drawled, tapping one long, tapered claw against her elbow. “By one of our own, no less.”

“You think we should get revenge?” Jecht asked, rolling his shoulder and cracking his knuckles.

“Do you truly want to take on the warrior who defeated Chaos single-handedly?” the Emperor interjected, expression full of lofty derision. “By all means, you’re welcome to invite failure upon yourself.”

“Ha, didn’t realise you were such a _pansy_.”

“He’s been awake many more cycles than _you_ ,” the Emperor coolly informed the former Cosmos warrior. More cycles than even _him_ – and he’d been undefeated for at least four. Yet none of them had paid him much attention, bar Sephiroth – and even _he_ only because they shared home worlds. He’d withdrawn himself from the fighting some two or three cycles ago – quietly defeating anyone who challenged him, building experience, regaining lost memories.

Seasoned ones were troublesome. But none of them once suspected how strong he’d truly become. Certainly not powerful enough to challenge _Chaos_. Certainly not enough to _win._

If they had, they might not have let him slip so quietly by the wayside.

“I agree it would be foolish,” the time-witch conceded gracefully. “But the question now is what will happen to us. I have no desire to fade into forgotten history.”

“Well, better get used to the idea,” Jecht declared. “With Chaos gone, 's only a matter of time before we disappear, right?"

"Perhaps not." The Emperor raised his staff, coaxing forth a foreign power, giving it shape. The dark miasma swirled into form before him. "In his dying moments, Chaos left us a parting gift."

Jecht, the poor fool, just looked at him flatly. Ultimecia was quicker on the uptake. "Existence." She folded her arms, pensive. “But why?” It went unspoken that Chaos cared not a whit for his pawns.

“Spite, I imagine.” He let the manifestation dissipate, tendrils of powers vanishing into obscurity once more. “Or one last grasp at victory, even after death. Who can know for sure?” Garland might have insight, but he cared little for sharing his thoughts with the rest of Chaos’s summoned.

“Huh.” Jecht scratched the back of his neck, tousling his ragged mane of hair further. “So what are we supposed to do with it then?”

The Emperor allowed himself a rare, indulgent smile. "As I see it, there’s only one path to survival.”

Ultimecia mirrored his smirk. “…Cosmos.”

“Correct. Cosmos herself is weak now, but her power will soon return. We would be well served to act before that happens." Chaos’s power would not sustain them indefinitely in a world ruled by harmony – as it was, those of his summoned who perished last cycle had not come through the purification. For them, death now was death eternal.

A shame the manikins had only gravely wounded Cosmos, rather than felling her decisively. They might have been rid of both gods in one swoop of Shinryuu’s tail.

“Of course,” Ultimecia pointed out smoothly, “We still have Cosmos’s little puppets to deal with.”

And there lay the _true_ dilemma.

……………

Cloud stared dully out across the Bahamut Isles.

The cycle had continued. He'd killed Chaos – he hadn’t revived - and yet still the wheels of destiny turned.

He didn’t understand it. This was Cosmos’s victory now, wasn’t it? Kuja hadn’t come through the Purification. Tidus and Terra had gone missing too. The stalemate had been broken.

So why hadn’t they gone home?

Something was wrong. There was some element of this conflict he’d overlooked.

The clatter of armour had him tensing, ready to draw his sword. A moment later, he relaxed at the sight of a midnight-black helmet, edged with gold. Just Golbez. One of the few unlikely to be looking for a fight.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding,” Golbez greeted him.

“Were you looking for me?”

A deep chuckle. “Not particularly.” Golbez often had the sound of a weathered old man, though Cloud knew he was at best only ten or so years his senior. “Though now that I’m here, I’m curious to know your thoughts.”

He didn’t need to explain what he meant. “Why we’re still here, you mean.”

“Yes.”

Cloud didn’t comment.

“I find myself perplexed,” Golbez confessed into the deep silence. “Victory for Cosmos _outright_ was not something I anticipated. Truthfully, I can no longer predict what will happen next.”

Chaos, though he stood for disorder, was predictable to them. He was a vengeful god, and acted the part with impunity. Cosmos, however… her goals were opaque.

“You had some plan to end the cycle, didn’t you?” Like him, Golbez had stood largely apart in the conflict, though there had been plenty of rumours of him consorting with the dragoon and paladin. “Sorry if I messed it up.”

“It is not unsalvageable,” Golbez replied amiably. “This way, too, he will be safe.”

So it was true, then. There was somebody on Cosmos’s side he wanted to protect.

Cloud could understand that very well indeed.

"Why _are_ you on Chaos's side?" he asked. The Lunarian - whatever that was - engaged in battle most reluctantly, and there were plenty of accusations that he'd given more than just _advice_ to Cosmos’s side. He wasn’t bloodthirsty like some of the others, nor professed any grand ambitions. Frankly, he seemed better suited to Cosmos’s side than some of Cosmos’s _actual_ warriors.

"At first, I thought it a weakness in my heart," Golbez rumbled within the black armour. He turned to look out over the craggy landscape, chunks of loose earth suspended improbably in the sky. "Now, though... I wonder. Perhaps it was merely freedom I craved."

_Freedom_ ?

"And what about you, Cloud? Is it peace you’re fighting for?"

He hunched his shoulders. “Nothing like that.” Like Golbez, there had simply been someone he wanted to protect.

And yet… a horrible thought began to occur to him.

“I have to go,” he said abruptly, and strode away.

…………………

“This is most concerning,” the Warrior of Light declared as he surveyed the empty landscape.

Small strike teams, they’d decided. Chaos’s warriors rarely moved in groups – though how they knew that, no one could say. So Warrior of Light, Cecil and Zidane had set out in one direction – Tidus, Terra and Onion Knight, the other. A small group could attack faster, retreat faster, and go unnoticed longer. Three groups of three – the most solid tactical formation they could make with their numbers.

Yet when they set out, they found nothing.

“Maybe they’re hiding,” Zidane suggested with a cocky air.

“But surely there would still be manikins,” Cecil pointed out. The crystalline artifices that wandered aimlessly across the landscape, viciously attacking any who dared encroach on their imagined territory, were conspicuously absent.

This deep in Chaos’s territory – or what had once _been_ Chaos’s territory – that didn’t make any sense at all.

“Something most foul must be afoot.”

“An ambush?” Zidane asked, arms folded behind his head.

“It would not be out of their character,” Cecil agreed.

Chaos’s forces would be desperate. The end of the conflict was close – they could all sense it.

Yet somehow, the Warrior of Light could not quell the pounding trepidation in his chest.

“Hey, a gateway!” Zidane called. He scampered ahead to the glowing red sigil – the portal that would lead to a disjointed slice of a forgotten world.

A sudden sense of familiar power washed over him, sweeping all the doubts from his mind. This presence - he recognised it.

At last, they had found one of their foes.

“Garland.”

…………………

Onion Knight would have rather had Squall along. Or Cecil. One of the more reserved ones, anyway. At least one of the ones that didn’t _treat him like a child_.

“Do you guys want to take a rest?” The sun-bleached blond tossed a white and blue ball in the air as they walked.

“ _Again_?” Onion Knight stopped short, the feathery plumes of his helmet swaying with the abruptness of the motion. “We’ve barely made any progress at all!” They hadn’t even found their first Chaos warrior yet!

“Well, maybe _you’re_ okay, but spare a little thought for the lady!” Tidus said with an easy air.

Oh. Onion Knight darted a quick glance at Terra, but she just gave him a small smile. “I can keep going. We haven’t even had to fight anybody so far.”

“Ok then!” The blitzballer gave them a big grin, and kicked the ball as it landed. It soared away, spinning through the air in a slow arc until slapping back into his hands with a sharp _thwack_.

Tidus made it very hard to resent him.

“I’m worried, though,” Terra confessed in a soft voice. “It seems… a little quiet.”

Tidus nodded, eyes turning distant, and expression serious. “Yeah…”

Onion Knight frowned. Thinking about it, it was strange they hadn’t seen even _one_ manikin yet. “Maybe the manikins disappeared when Chaos died?”

“I don’t think Chaos summoned them,” Terra ventured, though her brow was creased.

Tidus nodded again. “Yeah. I don’t know why… but I get this weird sense that they came from somewhere else. But those Chaos guys could definitely control them.”

He wanted to ask how they knew that, but kept quiet. There were many unexplained facts of this war. So many of them were missing memories. They seemed to trickle back, over time – other times, they simply knew things without knowing why.

Common sense, he told himself. When they’d first made their way to Sanctuary, the manikins had attacked them exclusively, and the few encounters with agents of Chaos showed the manikins willing to ignore their much closer presence in favour of attacking _them_. Using logic,  _anyone_ could make those assumptions.

“Hey, who do you think we’ll find first?” Tidus asked, changing the subject. “I hope it’s my old man!”

“But aren’t you worried about fighting him?” Terra asked softly.

“No way! I hate his guts!”

Onion Knight rolled his eyes. Comments like that made him wonder how in the world Tidus had wound up in Cosmos’s camp. “Can’t you be _serious_ for once?”

Tidus gave him a grin – though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “What about you, short stuff? Isn’t there anyone you really want to beat?”

He huffed and stomped ahead. “I’m not interested in any _childish vendettas_ like _you_. I’m just here to keep my promise and protect Terra!” Cloud of Darkness, he knew, came from his world, but she was just another villain who had to be stopped. He wouldn’t care in the least if one of the others took her out, so long as they won in the end.

Tidus shrugged. “Well, ok. Just might have helped if we had a clue. What about Kefka, Terra? Any idea where he might be hiding out? Wandering around like this doesn’t seem to be doing us much good.”

“Ummm… I don’t really know,” Terra apologised.

A clue…

Onion Knight paused, the cogs in his mind spinning to life. Why hadn’t he thought of it like that _before_ , instead of just running off in the direction they’d been pointed? He should be _thinking_ about this. If it had been _Cosmos_ who died, what would _they_ do?

“Wait!” He spun on his heel. “I think I know where all the manikins have gone!”

…………………

Garland staggered back. His enormous cleaver crashed to the ground, chain rattling as it skidded across the dungeon floor. He laughed, long and low.

“What is it you think you will accomplish?” he asked. His hollow voice had gained an edge of wetness and pain.

“We shall end this conflict, once and for all,” the Warrior of Light stated firmly. “You god has been finished. Surrender. The Light will prevail.”

“Still clinging to such romantic notions…” A scornful chuckle. “You don’t even recall, do you? Light, darkness… this war has raged on for _centuries_. The same battles, fruitlessly repeated, a never-ending cycle of conflict!”

“What?” Cecil sounded disturbed – though his expression remained hidden behind dark armour. “That can’t be!”

“Look within yourselves. You _know_ it is the truth, even if your minds cannot recall.”

Zidane brandished his daggers, tail lashing, voice pitched high with denial. “I don’t believe it! And even if that’s true, _this_ time it’s over for good!”

“Perhaps… that is so.” His breath grew laboured, the pauses in his speech growing ever wider. “A world without Chaos.” Garland chuckled darkly. “Indeed, it is not a world I care to see.”

The Warrior of Light remained steadfast and silent. Only fitting that he observe his foe’s end respectfully.

He would be the first of many, and then they would have peace.

“No matter,” he rasped, words echoing deeply in his armour. “The experiment is a failure. I have done my duty. I care _nothing_ for the fate of this world.”

Darkness began to leak from his form – he grew strangely insubstantial, a mere ghost of his massive horned shape. “But do not be so proud, warriors. Do you really think that the forces of Chaos will sit idly by and surrender? Miserable insects…” He laughed again, the sound fading as the darkness consumed him and he vanished from sight.

Then finally, silence.

Cecil shifted beside him, armour jingling faintly in the sudden quiet. “What do you think he meant?”

“Just the usual threats from a sore loser?” Zidane asked.

No, Garland hadn’t been like that. He fought with his own twisted code – a kind of honour among enemies. He didn’t make baseless overtures.

Realisation struck like a blow.

“Cosmos!”

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

The Emperor, Cloud of Darkness, ExDeath, and Ultimecia all stood before the goddess.

“Hmph.” The Emperor raised his staff. “I’d thought you lot would have had _better_ things to be doing than guarding your precious deity.” He’d expected one guard – not three. Had he known, he might have risked bringing Jecht as well. No matter. The four of them with their army of remaining manikins would be more than enough.

The young rebel who had so long been a thorn in his side grit his teeth and tightened his grip around his axe. Fool though he was, he knew they were outgunned. Cosmos sat at his back on her white marble settee, watching the proceedings with a guarded solemnity. So very different from their god, but no less dangerous.

An enormous set of sky-blue armour stepped into his peripheral vision. ExDeath. “This will be your only warning. Stand aside, foolish mortals, and we may spare you.”

A lie, naturally. But better if they could neutralise Cosmos without expending strength on her protectors.

“As though we’re going to sit back and let you do whatever you want!” The young mimic brandished his own weapon.

Cloud of Darkness laughed, energy crackling around her fingertips. “We shall _destroy_ you!”

“You are outnumbered,” Ultimecia drawled. “And even should you defeat _us_ , the manikins would tear you apart.”

“We’ll see about that!” The white-haired rebel growled, drawing a broadsword from his collection as well.

It was pointless to entreaty with those idealists who sold their hearts to the light after all. “Hmph, so be it.”

He raised his staff, and let the first spell form - a glowing orb of blue fire. Beside him, the air filled with dark arrows, warped space, and gnashing yellow serpents.

With naught but a gesture, they exploded into battle.

The three Cosmos warriors were hammered – every spell they swept away replaced by another, unable to break through and dash into close quarters combat. The Emperor stepped lightly to the side as a glowing arrow flew past, the tiniest of grazes gracing his cheek, platinum blond hairs drifting to the ground. It struck a manikin behind him, and shattered crystal ore peppered his back. He rewarded it with orbs of red and blue fire, exploding beneath the rebel’s feet.

The gunblader staggered, whirling, fighting off arrows that came from every direction, dashing to slash at a yellow serpent sinking its teeth into his ally’s arm. The boy in turn switched weapons, throwing an axe at ExDeath even as he dodged Cloud of Darkness, blood running down his fingertips. And all the while manikins leapt into the fray, chipping away at their opponents one lucky slash at a time.

The Emperor could feel laughter building deep in his throat. _Chaos_ , in its purest form!

Then it all came to an abrupt halt.

“Stay away!” a shrill voice called, and suddenly their spells fell short, sizzling and sputtering against a shimmering barrier, a ring of manikins exploding in the crossfire.

 _Cosmos_ , making her move at last?

No.

The Emperor barely contained a snarl.

 _Reinforcements_.

“Ha! I was right!” The red-armoured child ran onto the scene, accompanied by two familiar faces. “Looks like we made it back just in time!”

“You guys!” the Mimic sounded joyous and relieved, and gripped his sword with renewed determination. “Right! We can do this!”

“I’ve got Darkness!” the child called, squaring off against his chosen foe.

The gunblader took stance in front of Ultimecia. “This one’s mine.”

“I’ll take care of ExDeath!” The Mimic, naturally.

“We’ll hold off the manikins!” Tidus called, dashing away with young Terra. The Emperor’s eyes narrowed at them. So that was where they’d gone. He had stolen Jecht for their side, but Cosmos had stolen two of theirs in kind.

There was no time for recriminations, however. “We won’t let you have your way!” the rebel declared, sword in one hand, spear in another.

Most troublesome. But the battle was not yet lost. “Lowly worm.” He raised his staff, and the air crackled with magic once more.

…………………

Gunpowder exploded around him, a ring of protection driving back the deadly spears of dark energy.

"You are all fools." The witch drew the words out, soaking them with smiling contempt. "You don't even know what it is you're truly fighting for, do you?"

"We fight to end the fighting," Squall replied, fingering the trigger of his still-smoking gunblade. The silver gleamed in the unnatural light.

"So you 'fight to end the fighting'." She let out a girlish laugh, high and sharp. The air seemed to distort, and half a breath later, she stood behind him, black feathers drifting in the air. "You've yet to realise what that means."

He whirled, but slashed only at empty space. A whisper of movement at his back, and he rolled to the side. Gold and silver lines flared, the destructive sigil missing him by inches.

“You need a hand Squall?” Bartz called.

“Worry about yourself,” he grumbled, and took stance once more. “This one’s _my_ fight.”

………………….

ExDeath vanished. The Emperor had long fallen. In the distance, there was a flash as Squall put Ultimecia to final rest.

Cloud of Darkness hung in the air for a long moment, looking down upon them.

“Hmph,” she dismissed. “Enjoy your hollow victory.”

Then she too, faded from sight.

Tired and wounded, the warriors turned to face the remaining manikin horde. Tidus and Terra were worn ragged, but between his sword and her magic, had kept them off their backs long enough.

“We could use a little help, guys!” Tidus called, even as he smashed a blitzball into a manikin’s face.

“Hang on, we’re coming!” Firion replied, weary and bloodied, but drawing his sword once more.

Before they could even reach the first manikin, though, white light burst before their eyes like the dawning sun.

“Shine!”

A line of manikins caught in its wake disintegrated. Over their fading remains stepped a familiar figure clad in blue and silver armour, holding a regal shield.

“Hey guys!” Zidane darted onto the scene, daggers spinning as he took out a likeness of himself. Cecil followed quickly behind. “Did we miss all the fun?”

Firion grinned. “Don’t worry, we saved some for you.”

………………….

Cloud grit his teeth, and fell to one knee, bracing himself against his Buster Sword.

 _Not again_ …

Darkness spilled from his form, a stretching shadow bleeding from his very core. His breath rattled, his senses grew dull, and it felt as though his body was tearing itself apart… but slowly, it passed.

“It’s getting worse,” he muttered. His words were met with only the hiss and sputter of lava flows. Not even manikins were around anymore.

Eventually he straightened and resumed walking. It might have been smarter to risk using the teleport stone, instead of taking the path through the Mirage Desert. The terrain was rugged, the paths convoluted, and the gateways many. And it was starting to look more and more like his time was limited.

A large part of him wanted to give up. Tifa’s life would be spared – Chaos was no more. The fighting would end, and she would never wind up like him. He’d achieved his goals.

Golbez’s words haunted him, though.

How much longer did he have left in this world? How long until the last threads of Chaos’s power were overwhelmed by harmony?

Darkness couldn’t exist in a world so thoroughly bathed in light.

Before that happened, he had to act.

…………………

The last of the manikins shattered, crystalline fragments scattering across the ground before disappearing into motes of light.

“Cosmos!” the Warrior of Light quickly knelt before the Goddess.

She simply closed her eyes for a moment, head tilting in the slightest of nods, before regarding them with a wide, guileless blue gaze. “I am unharmed. Thank you.”

“It was a lucky thing you all returned when you did,” Firion said, carefully returning each of his many weapons to their place. “We couldn't have lasted much longer on our own.”

“We went so far without encountering any manikins or Chaos warriors we became suspicious,” Onion Knight explained matter-of-factly – his tone was businesslike, but childish pride still shone through his expression. “As soon as we suspected, we came running back as fast we could.”

“I see. That was quick thinking on your part,” Cecil said with a slight smile. “We encountered Garland – it was he who gave their plans away.”

“So you took out the big guy? Great! One more down already!” Tidus enthused.

“It kinda worries me, though,” Zidane admitted, tail curling and uncurling anxiously. “I can’t stop thinking about what he said. You know. That we’ve been fighting the same battles over and over again. That we’ve done this all before, but we just can’t remember.”

At the others’ confusion, Cecil repeated Garland’s parting words. The silence that stretched afterwards was as heavy as it was long.

“It can’t be…” Firion crossed his arms, looking pensive. “Can it?” He turned to look at Cosmos, but she returned his stare unflinchingly, and gave no response either way.

That was a response in itself.

“It _seems_ crazy, but it feels kind of true, you know?” Bartz said. “Like, I can almost remember it.”

“Maybe we _have_ just forgotten,” Onion Knight pointed out. “After all, how would we know? When we first got here, most of us didn’t know much more than our names.” He darted a quick glance at the Warrior of Light.

“Does it matter?” Squall interrupted – evidently he’d become impatient. “What’s past is in the past. What’s now is what counts.”

“Squall is right,” the Warrior of Light decided. “Chaos is gone. If truly we have been trapped in a cycle, then this is its end.”

The mood brightened perceptibly at those words. “Right!” Bartz declared. “We just have to take down the leftovers now! We’re halfway there already!”

They were infused with energy, confidence brimming as the end of the conflict moved within arm’s reach. Over half of their foes felled. It was only a matter of time until the others would follow.

At their backs, Cosmos smiled.

…………………

“Hmm? What’s that?” Kefka rocked back on his heels, painted face stretched into an exaggerated smile. “I spy with my little eye…”

“What do you want?” Sephiroth asked, glancing over his shoulder with bored contempt.

“Come on now, don’t be like that!” The clown skittered around, away from the shining curve of Masamune. A whine entered his voice, “Is that any way to thank me? After I went to allllll that trouble to tell you about the girl.”

The silver-haired swordsman raised a single eyebrow, but didn’t otherwise react. “Somehow I doubt your motives were altruistic.”

Kefka giggled nervously, eyes creasing into crescents. “Oh, you are dangerous on _so_ many levels,” he complimented with a flap of his hand. “Maaaaaaaaybe I had a _teensy_ bit of a plan, but it worked out in your favour, didn’t it?” He slunk a short distance away, toeing the crumbling edge of rock. Lava hissed and sputtered, eating the loose clods of earth as they eroded under his heel.

“Did it?” Sephiroth drawled. “One might make the conclusion that it is, in fact, _your_ fault Chaos is dead.”

“ _My_ fault?” he asked in exaggerated innocence. That _would_ be something. His little bit of meddling, leading to the downfall of a god! A real coup for the cause of _destruction_! “Ha! It was  _no fair_! He got to have _all_ the fun!” His words ended on a melodramatic sob, then morphed to a wicked chortle. “Who would have thought that moody little brooder had it in him?”

“Get to the point,” Sephiroth ordered. “Why are you here? I have no more patience for your games.”

“Weeeeellllll…” He drew out the word, drawing circles with his toe in the dirt. “It occurs to me, we miiiight be a _little bit_ outnumbered right now.”

Sephiroth gave him a flat look. Brightening, Kefka continued, “So if we wanna take out some of those Cosmos chumps, maybe we should join forces! Whaddya say?!”

“With you? Hmph. Not interested,” came the immediate reply.

“Awwww, you’re no fun!” he whined. “Come on! Don’t you want _revenge_?” He oiled the word, smile growing sly.

The swordsman, however, failed to take the bait. “The time for your shallow plots is past. I shall be seeing out this conflict on my _own_ terms,” he dismissed, and walked away.

“Hmph. Nobody around here is _any_ fun.” He fluffed out his oversized striped collar, and pranced towards a gateway. “Guess I’ll have to _make my own_!”

Except the fun he _really_ wanted to have was now out of reach.

A growl built in his throat. That snotty little drama queen, stealing his prize right out from under him! Oh, he’d had his revenge, but it wasn’t _near_ enough. And that dour spiky-haired fellow had gone and messed up any chance he had of getting his _just desserts_.

“I’ll destroy it. I’ll destroy it _all_ ,” he grumbled, hoarse.

He paid no attention to the scenery as he wandered, mind whirling with plots and tricks and destruction. It had been so _perfect_ , so deliciously _ironic_ …

A pulse of power stirred the air, drawing him out of his rambling mutterings. “Hm?” His voice echoed through the empty chamber, filled with vast pillars reaching for the sky. Dark tiled floors stretched into the distance before disappearing into black nothingness. And yet, somewhere nearby…

He had _company_.

The familiar power – _intoxicating, so vast and rich!_ – washed over him, sending him wriggling to his toes with excitement. _The girl_.

“It’s going to a beautiful show!” he cackled.

…………………

The clown faded, his wretched laughter lingering in their ears long after he disappeared.

Another agent of Chaos down.

Truth be told, five of them had been overkill. They’d mostly left it to Terra. They had a history, apparently. Firion could appreciate that.

They were being more cautious now, after Chaos had pooled their forces to attack Cosmos. Four of their number had been left to guard their Goddess, enough to hold their ground if the remaining members descended upon Sanctuary. The rest had set out as a group to hunt down the stragglers.

"That's Kefka, Garland, Ultimecia, the Emperor, Darkness and ExDeath," Onion Knight recited, counting on his soot-streaked fingers. "Who's left?"

“...My brother, Golbez." Cecil sounded reluctant.

"My old man!" Tidus, on the other hand, was practically humming with energy. "Let's get going!"

"Wait," Firion interrupted, “Don’t forget Sephiroth." That impossibly long sword had caught his attention as a weaponsmaster.

“Right. Sephiroth,” Onion Knight agreed. “That’s three. We’re almost there!”

………………….

From his vantage point, Cloud watched over the gateway with a steady, cautious gaze.

This was the riskiest part of his journey – the small stone bridge, marked by a glowing blue gateway, joining two thin sandbars that linked the northern and southern islands.

Ideal for an ambush.

There was nobody in sight.

The other agents of Chaos had given him a wide berth since their god’s demise. They were, by and large, a selfish group, concerned with their personal welfare first and foremost. He’d survived enough cycles for them to be wary – with those reclaimed memories came knowledge and experience and magics. It was how the balance had been ever so slowly tipped in Chaos’s favour.

It was strange, though, that he hadn’t seen _anyone_ since Golbez. At the very least, he expected Sephiroth to turn up, seeking revenge for the events of the previous cycle.

“Maybe there’s nobody left,” he murmured.

That wasn’t quite true – he knew _Sephiroth_ was still around, at least. He was like an itch at the back of his skull that never quite went away.

More likely they were marshalling their numbers to take him out. Chaos’s warriors were typically spread far and wide – alliances were strictly fleeting matters of convenience. Their deceased god had kept them on very loose leashes. Something which now made him wonder – it didn’t fit with the destructive madness that had been taking a deeper and deeper hold over the cycles.

A quiver of dark energy at the core of his being shook him out of his introspection. He didn’t have time for second-guessing, not anymore. Cosmos’s power grew greater by the hour.

He hunched his shoulders, and set out towards the bridge.

Cosmos, Chaos... they would all be out for his blood in the end. It didn't matter. He had no choice but to keep moving.

………………….

They found Golbez in a gateway in the Onrac region.

The others stayed back at Cecil’s request.

“So you’ve come,” the Lunarian rumbled within the black depths of his armour. “I thought you might.”

“Brother…” Cecil faltered.

“You’ve been seeking out the forces of Chaos,” he observed.

“I… yes,” the paladin admitted. “We’re going to end the fighting once and for all.”

He chuckled. “…That is perhaps one way of doing it.” He turned properly to face him then, midnight blue cape flaring with a silken rustle. “So now you’ve come for me.”

Cecil shook his head. “It doesn’t _have_ to be like that, brother.” Then, in sudden earnest, “You can join us! What reason do we have to fight anymore?”

“What reason indeed…” He sounded pensive. “But I fear there can be no place for me in the light.”

“That’s not true!” Cecil protested.

For a long moment, Golbez didn’t respond, giving him hope that he truly might consider his words. The faint hiss of a lavafall carried on the wind.

“Tell me, Cecil…Is peace what you desire most?”

Puzzled, the paladin replied, “Of course.”

Suddenly, the air crackled with magic. Rocks tore from the ground with no warning. A cry wrenched from Cecil’s throat as they smashed into his side, throwing him to the ground with a heavy thump and a clatter of armour.

“Cecil!” Tidus called from a distance, already running to help.

He forced himself to his feet, leaning heavily on his sword, the breath knocked from his lungs. “Brother, why-?”

Golbez rose in the air, crimson lightning lashing around his fists. “If that is what you truly seek, then show me the strength of your conviction!”

………………….

Tidus sought him out after it was all over. To rest, they’d taken refuge in a peaceful gateway – a floating castle, with clipped green grass and stone turrets. The sky was wide and blue, featureless but for the occasional ephemeral vision of a distant, foreign forest.

“Hey, you holding up okay?”

Cecil managed a wan smile. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry everyone.” He turned his attention back to the clear, sunny sky. It seemed far too bright and cheerful for his mood.

“Nah, it’s okay.” Tidus plopped down on the castle’s edge next to him. “Pretty rough, huh?”

“I just don’t understand why he did it,” he admitted. “It never seemed like he wanted to.”

“I’m sure he had his reasons. Hey! Maybe he thought it would help you get home!”

At Cecil’s stricken glance, Tidus winced, rubbing the back of his neck. “Ahaha, that doesn’t really make it better… does it.”

“No… but you may be right.” He stared at his feet, hanging above the steep castle walls. “…And what about you Tidus? Aren’t you worried about fighting your father?”

“No way!” He hopped back up, light as always on his feet. “I’m looking forward to it!”

………………….

Tidus didn’t have to wait for long. They found Jecht in a gateway not far from the Teleport stone on Chaos’s side. It was filled with suspended platforms, the remnants of a ruined city. One featured a massive sword buried halfway to its hilt, and floating rocks formed an edifice remarkably like the silver emblem on his necklace.

“Yo, old man!”

The grizzled swordsman turned around. “Well, well. Look who’s come to visit.”

“Shut your face!” The words were said with an aggressive smirk. “I’m here to take you down!”

“Izzat so?” Jecht hefted his sword against his shoulder, a matching grin stretching his features. “You think you can?”

“I know it!”

“Well then, guess we’d better-”

He convulsed, cutting off mid-sentence and dropping to the ground.

“Hey!” Tidus stepped forward, hand outstretched, though to do what he didn’t quite know. Dark pyreflies swirled around the swordsman as he retched for what seemed like an eternity. “What… what is this?” His words faded to a whisper. It didn’t look _right_ , seeing him… seeing him so _weak_!

“It’s nothing. Stop lookin’ at me like that,” he complained, voice rough. “You’re such a crybaby. I’m fine! Just gimme a minute.”

Onion Knight stepped up, looking him over critically. “Of course. I don’t know why we didn’t see it before. Chaos is dead – the warriors he summoned should have disappeared.” He folded his arms in thoughtful repose. “So why didn’t they?”

The darkness faded, and with a grunt, Jecht hauled himself back to his feet. “I don’t get it exactly, but apparently the old war horse gave us a parting gift to buy us some time.”

“So that’s why,” Firion mused. “Otherwise they would have just disappeared on their own, and the conflict would already be over.”

“So that’s what you kids are up to, huh?”

“…Something like that.”

Jecht scratched the back of his neck, apparently deep in thought, and then pulled his sword free. “Well, you’re welcome to _try_!” With sudden speed, he dashed at Tidus. The blitzballer dodged, barely, bringing his sword around at the last minute. Jecht blocked, retaliating with a heavy swing of his massive sword. It hit the ground with a _crack­_ – concrete shattering underneath it as Tidus nimbly hopped out of way. _That_ was more like it!

“Is that all you got?!”

“Not even half!” They slashed and parried for another minute more, Tidus dancing around his father’s punishingly heavy strokes, heart thudding in his ears, crazy grin stretching across his face. He leapt into the sky, swinging high, brought the sword down-

And his old man didn’t move to block it.

The watery blade stopped a hair’s breadth above a tanned, muscled shoulder.

Then Tidus was lashing out with his fist, striking his father square in the gut.

Jecht flew back and hit the side of the massive sword with an audible _thump_. He slid to the ground, giant blade crashing beside him.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Tidus seethed. His hands were clenched – his whole form _radiated_ anger. “You think I’m just going to let you _throw_ the fight, after all… after all  _this_?”

Jecht coughed and righted himself, apparently none the worse for wear. “Ah, crap. You saw straight through me.”

“ _Why_?!”

“You wanted to fight, didn’t you? Hell, I was even gonna let you win.”

“You… I hate you!” he blustered. “I don’t want to win like that! That’s not the guy I wanna beat! The guy I wanna beat doesn’t just roll over and lose! The guy I wanna beat isn’t _weak_!”

“What the heck do you suggest then, huh?” Jecht barked. “What’s the point of winning if I’m gonna vanish anyway!” The two of them glared at each other.

“If I may-” Cecil stepped in tentatively. “Our goals seem to be the same. Jecht, why don’t you lend us your assistance? We still have one last agent of Chaos to defeat. Your advice could really help. And I’m sure if we spoke to Cosmos, she’d be happy to let you join us.”

Jecht rubbed a hand through his tangled mess of hair. Eventually, he sighed, and stabbed his blade into the ground. “Doesn’t sound like I got a lot of choices, does it?” He nodded to himself. “Okay. Why not? I’ll help you kids out. Ain’t got nothing to lose, anyway.” He tossed a glance at Tidus, who was still quietly smouldering at him. “You and me, we can have our fight after. I don’t much feel like it right now anyway. Ain’t any good like that!”

He twitched, but in the end, put his sword away. “Ok, _fine_. But you’d better bet I’ll kick your ass when the time comes!”

Jecht laughed. “Sure, if you _can_!” Turning to the others, he asked, “So, I know you got the Emperor’s mob. Who’s left?”

“We took out Garland, Kefka, and Golbez,” Cecil explained. “If you join us, that leaves only Sephiroth.”

"Sephiroth, huh? That’ll be something.” He scratched his chin. “But hey… haven't you forgotten someone?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You know. The broody one! Cloud."

"You mean Cloud of Darkness?" Onion Knight piped up. "We already got her."

“That weird lady? Nah. Guy I’m talking about carries a big sword, has this crazy spiky blond hair. You know. The one who killed Chaos.”

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

It was fair to say, there was visible recoil.

Onion Knight, for his part, thought he did well keeping it down to a slight widening of the eyes.

It made sense. They’d fought nearly all of Chaos’s remaining warriors, but none of them had said anything about _killing_ Chaos. And they weren’t exactly the modest sort – if any of them had defeated a God, there would have been some fairly grand taunts thrown about.

But in the thrall of their progress, they’d all forgotten about it. The ones who’d gone after Garland assumed one of the party that attacked Cosmos had done it. The ones defending Cosmos all assumed it must have been Garland.

His gut churned with apprehension. It was a reasonable response, he justified to himself. You didn’t pick fights with people who could kill Gods without a _really good plan_.

“How is it that we didn’t know about him?” Onion Knight asked, distracting himself with the riddle to squash the monster growing in his head.

Jecht shrugged. "According to what the others said, he normally stays out of the fight. Whatever prompted him to take on Chaos, well..." He left that thought unfinished.

“In that case, maybe he’ll be sympathetic to our cause. He did kill Chaos, after all,” Firion suggested.

Tidus scoffed – still grumpy at the prospect of having to endure his father’s presence, no doubt. “With our luck?”

“We can at least try to convince him… maybe…” Terra offered uncertainly.

Onion Knight nodded his agreement firmly, helmet plumes swaying with the motion. He _really_ didn’t want to fight the guy who killed Chaos if he could avoid it. He wasn’t scared! It was just… sensible. “Do you know anything else? Something that might help us track him down?”

“Not much. I never really properly met the guy! Most of what I know is second-hand from the Emperor. There was something, though…” Jecht spent a moment thinking on it. “Oh yeah, that’s it. Yeah. That’ll work. Two birds, one stone and all that.”

“What is it?” Patience wasn’t a strength of Tidus’s at the best of times – it seemed even shorter where his father was concerned. “Hurry up with it, old man!”

Jecht, for his part, grinned like a shark. “If you want to find Cloud, find Sephiroth.”

 

……………………

 

“Cosmos,” the Warrior of Light knelt briefly. “I’ve returned from my patrols.”

“Thank you.” Her words were whimsical, with a strangely musical twist. “But you do not need to worry so. Sanctuary is safe.”

“Your strength has returned?” he asked.

She closed her eyes, as though listening to a distant song. “Yes. I have regained much of what I lost. With Chaos gone, I can expand my influence.”

Indeed, the air around her seemed to glow with an energy that had been missing when they first gathered. Wisps of light curled and glimmered around her form like nervous butterflies. The stretch of blue sky overhead reached further towards the horizon.

“Even so, I cannot relax until the last of Chaos’s forces have been defeated,” he stated firmly.

“Your dedication is admirable. But please, do not push yourself.” There was a note of motherly admonishment in the words, a hidden plea.

“Any sacrifice is worth it, if we can at last end the fighting,” he assured her.

“An end to the fighting…” she recited, as though the words were poetry unto themselves. “…Tell me. Do you resent me? For bringing all of you into this conflict?”

He paused, thinking the matter through carefully, giving his answer the weight it deserved. “…No,” he eventually replied. “I believe, in the end, you have this world’s best interests at heart.” A sensation – a ghost of a memory, perhaps – pressed against his throat. “That you have _our_ best interests at heart.”

She stared at him, her expression strangely difficult to read, and folded her hands in her lap. “Thank you.”

“There is nothing to thank me for. I am simply doing my duty.”

It was duty. He didn’t need to think about it. That was what a Knight _did_.

 

……………………

 

“I don’t see anyone,” Firion observed quietly, palm resting on the hilt of his axe. “You sure about this?”

Streams of glowing green energy swirled around them. The footholds were tenuous and few – floating chunks of broken earth and crumbling pillars of rock.

“If he’s anywhere, he’s here,” Jecht replied gruffly, then raised his voice. “Hey! Sephiroth!”

His voice echoed through the cavernous gateway, met only by constant rumble of the energy whirling around them.

The warriors of Cosmos remained in a tight knit group, wary of an ambush. Terra stood in the centre, hands clasped to her chest. She could throw out a spell from there without breaking formation.

The silence was protracted, until at last, there was the rustle of leather and whisper of steel.

Firion looked up, and immediately dropped into a defensive block.

He needn’t have bothered. Rather than plummeting from the sky in an attack, the silver-haired warrior of Chaos floated to the ground, tall black boots landing like feathers on the ground. “Hmph.” Cold, green, cat-like eyes studied them with comfortable contempt. “You’re keeping some rather unusual company.”

“Yeah. Things have changed,” Jecht said easily.

“I see.” He angled his sword slightly – the long, thin strip of metal reflecting the green glow surrounding them. “So you’ve fallen back in with Cosmos, then.”

“Whaddya mean, _back_?”

Sephiroth looked bemused. “Oh, that’s right. You don’t remember, do you?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” An annoyed edge began to creep into the swordsman’s voice.

He didn’t answer, instead turning to look at wall of swirling green. “So much of this world remains a mystery. I wonder… how do we know that we ourselves are not merely copies?”

“You mean like the manikins?” Onion Knight wondered.

“Who cares about that?” Tidus interrupted, stepping forward. “We need to know where to find this Cloud guy.”

At the name, something sharpened in Sephiroth’s expression. “ _Cloud_.” His gaze hardened as he regarded them more seriously. “You wish to kill him, then.”

“Depends!” Tidus’s tone was bright – either oblivious of the threat, or pretending to be. “If he _wants_ to fight, then yeah. If not…” He shrugged. “You and he and my old man are all that’s left of Chaos.”

“If you help us find Cloud, we can give you amnesty, like we have with Jecht here,” Firion offered.

He considered them for a long moment. “Hmph. I don’t care to thrown in my lot with you. And yet…” He lowered his sword. “Cloud and I have _unfinished business_.”

Enemies, then. Firion had been starting to wonder.

Onion Knight caught on, too. “Why haven’t you fought him yet, then? You don’t know where he is either?”

Sephiroth regarded them with an air of condescending amusement. “Not at all. I know _exactly_ where he is.”

Puzzled, he asked, “Then what’s the problem?”

“…The teleport stone has been… unreliable.”

Jecht grimaced. “Oh yeah, I forgot about that.”

“But we used the teleport stone to get here!” Firion protested.

“I get it. It’s because you’re with Chaos,” Onion Knight guessed.

“Right.” Jecht stabbed his sword into the earth, keeping a loose hand on the hilt. “Teleport stones used to be neutral, but now Cosmos is head honcho, they don’t always react to those of us reliant on Chaos’s power. Makes getting around tough.”

“It was a similar situation when it was Cosmos in decline. Unfortunately, I did not have the opportunity to take my revenge before the end of the last cycle,” Sephiroth said. “And with the head start he has now, I wouldn’t be able to catch up without the teleport stone.”

“So you want to come with us,” Onion Knight surmised. “Hitch a ride with us through the teleport stone.”

Sephiroth said nothing – merely tilted his head in implied agreement.

The idea obviously unsettled the others – Terra in particular seemed to withdraw into herself. Firion wasn’t sure if he liked it either. It could so easily be a trap, so he could stab them in the back when their guards were lowered. Or maybe he even wanted to meet up with this Cloud guy to improve his odds.

He wanted to take the chance, though – to believe that even their enemies wanted an end to the fighting. And if they were wrong… It would still be five-on-two. Good odds. Six if you counted Jecht.

“Okay,” he agreed. “The teleport stone’s not far away. Let’s get going.”

One left, and the war would finally be over.

 

………………….

 

“Hey Bartz!” Zidane waved, running up to the mimic.

“Zidane!” Bartz grinned. “Find anything interesting?”

“I found a stray manikin, but it didn’t put up much of a fight.”

Bartz slumped theatrically. “I didn’t find _anything_. This is getting kind of boring.”

“Heh, yeah. You know what _that_ guy’ll say, though.”

They grimaced as one. “He’s definitely dedicated.”

“Yeah.” Zidane scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “We should probably go report in.” Squall would be getting cranky by now, too. _Both_ of those guys seriously needed to lighten up.

They headed back towards Sanctuary’s heart, grassy plains giving way to white sand and clear, shallow water.

The thief had gone quiet as they walked. “Something bothering you?” Bartz asked eventually, tone light but gently probing.

“Eh? Oh, sorry. It’s just… that manikin earlier. It seemed kind of familiar, but there’s no one like that on our side, or on Chaos’s side.” The crystalline feather in the hair, the rings of light – he even thought he’d caught a glimpse of a tail. _Like his_.

“Some of your memories came back?”

He rubbed the bridge of his nose, giving him a rueful grin. “Maybe. I’m slowly remembering more as time goes on, you know? But it seems like so little compared to what there must be.”

Bartz sighed, fishing out his ‘good-luck charm’ – the bright yellow feather he’d found inside one of the gateways. “I know what you mean. You know some of the other manikins we fought, back when we were protecting Cosmos? I recognised some of their moves – I can even use some of them. But that shouldn’t be possible, unless the manikins are copies of people we’ve forgotten.”

Zidane thought it over. “You think maybe it’s related to that stuff Garland was talking about? About the cycles?”

Bartz shrugged. “Could be. Your guess is as good as mine.”

They fell back into companionable silence, each mulling over the mystery. Zidane twirled his daggers lazily in his hands. After a few minutes, Bartz started doing the same, right down to the wrist flicks.

Zidane yawned, and slipped the daggers back up his sleeves. Guard duty might have been important, but it was also a bit of a drag. “…I wonder how the others are doing.”

 

………………….

 

“ _Cornelia Plains_?” Firion asked, looking around them. “But that’s almost at Sanctuary!”

Sephiroth was laser focused – barely aware of the rest of them. “He’s here.” He strode towards a gateway to the west. It glowed a steady crimson – one of the few remaining _not_ a luminescent blue.

As they approached, the gateway flashed, and an unfamiliar figure stepped from it.

“ _Cloud_.” Sephiroth seemed to _relish_ the word.

_This_ was the man who defeated Chaos?

He looked a lot less impressive than Firion had imagined.

He was mostly human, aside from the glowing blue eyes, but considering Sephiroth’s eyes wore a matching luminance and Zidane sported a _tail_ , that didn’t seem so weird. His clothes weren’t anything outlandish, either - no ornate armour, no cape, no headgear. His sword was rather large, especially for his stature, but Jecht’s was about the same size, and Garland’s massive cleaver put them _both_ to shame.

Cloud, for his part, seemed only mildly wary at their arrival. “Sephiroth. What do you want?” His voice was soft, and slightly coarse, as though he didn’t use it much.

Raising his impossibly long katana, Sephiroth replied, “I told you, did I not? That there would be time to exact payment for your betrayal later.”

There was no further warning. The speed at which he struck made Firion’s fingers twitch for his rapier. Steel rang against steel – impossibly, Cloud had caught the flashing blade on his unwieldy sword. With an ease that belied the weapon’s surely massive weight, he darted to Sephiroth’s flank, slashing at his stomach. Sephiroth leapt above it, raising his hand, gathering magic – but he didn’t have the chance to finish whatever spell he was trying to call, as Cloud bent his knees and jumped to meet him.

“Should we do something?” Firion asked, eyes tracking the battle, though both fighters at times seemed to _blur_ before his eyes.

Jecht scoffed – barely audible over the clashing metal. “Nah. Let ‘em kill each other.”

“No _wonder_ Chaos is losing.” Onion Knight remarked. “If they’re always fighting among themselves.”

Without warning, the two fighters sprung apart – Cloud skidding on his back heel, hand braced against the ground, Sephiroth seeming to gently break on the air itself. Neither looked worse the wear.

Cloud straightened. “If you hold back, you’ll lose.” It wasn’t a threat – merely stated as simple fact.

Sephiroth, for his part, lowered his sword, face pensive. “Strange,” he murmured. “I went to this much effort to put you in your place… yet now that I’m here, I don’t much feel like fighting you.”

Cloud’s expression darkened, but he didn’t say anything.

Sephiroth inclined his head slightly, and turned from the battle. “…Accept your good fortune on this rare occasion. It may not last for long.”

“You’re not even interested in reclaiming more memories?” Cloud’s stance was as guarded as his eyes.

“I have reclaimed much already,” was all he would respond to that.

Not everyone was so reserved. “The hell is that all about, huh?” Jecht demanded. “After crossing half the damn world, you change your mind?”

Tidus crossed his arms and scowled. “As though you’re one to talk, old man!”

“I don’t see how it’s any of your business,” Sephiroth replied smoothly.

Jecht shrugged irritably, turning to the spiky-haired blond. “Fine! See what I care. So, Cloud, huh? It’s up to you, then. What happens now?”

With some reluctance, that glowing gaze was dragged away from Sephiroth to focus on the rest of them. “What do you mean?”

He didn’t appear openly hostile, at least.

“You know. What are you gonna do now? And that goes for you too, Sephiroth. Are we enemies, or what? Us three, we’re all that’s left of Chaos,” Jecht explained.

A brief pause preceded his response, as he appeared to mull over their words. “You’re with Chaos now? I’m surprised you made it through the Purification. Kuja didn’t.”

“Hmph. I suspect it’s because he was summoned by Cosmos originally,” Sephiroth dismissed. “He’ll likely outlast us both.”

“That’s the second time someone’s gone on about that,” Jecht grumbled. “What’s that all about, huh?”

They both ignored him, Cloud turning his attention elsewhere, studying their group more closely. “…Is Tifa with you?”

Firion blinked. “Tifa?” He turned to the others. “Do any of you remember anyone called that?”

He was met only with similarly blank expressions.

And for just that one moment, Cloud looked utterly _stricken_.

 

………………….

 

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what must have happened.

Cloud closed his eyes, turned away, and took a deep, shuddering breath.

He’d done it for Tifa. If she was gone… what was the point?

“Are you ok?”

He opened his eyes and turned back around. It shouldn’t make a difference. He’d been doing this for so long now… he’d passed _lifetimes_ in this world. “Yeah. Sorry.”

It was the warrior with all the weapons who’d spoken. Something about his demeanour felt very familiar – Firion, that was his name. “This Tifa, she was important to you?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Thankfully, Sephiroth was staying out of it and keeping quiet. That situation was alarming in itself, but he had to remind himself that the rules of allies and enemies were constantly rewritten in this world.

Chaos was dead, after all.

He pushed aside the ache in his chest, refusing to acknowledge it. Nobody seemed to know what to say. Eventually, Firion ventured, “I know we’re from opposing sides, but Jecht has agreed to join us, and Sephiroth…” He hesitated there, but forged on determinedly. “-What I’m saying is…”

“I’m not interested in fighting you,” he interrupted. “I just want to talk to Cosmos.”

_That_ sent the warriors of Cosmos in a hasty huddle, with equal parts relief and suspicion on their faces. “Excuse us for a minute,” Firion apologised.

Sephiroth smirked, giving him a sidelong glance. “They don’t trust you. They think it’s a trap.”

“It doesn’t matter what they think,” he replied, then eyed his long-time enemy warily. “What are you planning?”

“ _Relax_ , Cloud,” he said, in a manner that made him do the exact opposite. “We are supposed to be allies, are we not? The last of Chaos’s _true_ Summoned.”

He frowned, and looked away.

It was too out of character. It was amazing in itself Sephiroth formed any kind of alliance with Cosmos’s champions. That half-hearted, aborted fight earlier was downright _unbelievable_.

Cosmos’s group broke apart and faced them again. “Okay,” Firion said. “We’ll bring you back to Sanctuary with us.” He paused, but when Cloud didn’t comment, continued, “I guess I should introduce everyone. I’m Firion. You already know Jecht, I guess… That’s Onion Knight, Cecil, Tidus, and Terra. The others are back guarding Cosmos.”

He already knew everyone, of course – had fought many of them in previous cycles. His gaze was drawn to the half-esper. "You broke free of him," Cloud said to Terra. "Good for you." The girl had been stunningly powerful, though wielded it awkwardly. Cosmos had gained a strong ally indeed.

“I… what do you mean?” Terra asked. Her eyes were clearer than he could remember, but she still seemed genuinely confused.

“You don’t remember?” he asked. Then… “I guess not. If you all fell last cycle, you wouldn’t know.”

“What are you talking about?” Onion Knight demanded.

He gave him a blank look. Wasn’t it obvious? “Terra used to fight for Chaos. Tidus, too. Jecht – he used to fight for Cosmos. I don’t know what happened there.”

“What, _seriously_?” Tidus blurted.

Cloud shrugged, and didn’t say anything more. Aside from a suspicion the Emperor had something to do with it, he had no idea how either of them wound up swapping sides. Tidus had been fairly new to the cycle, so Cloud never got the chance to get to know him – aside from his single-minded determination to fight his father. Maybe he just switched to whatever side let him do that.

“Are we going?” he asked flatly. That prompted the group into movement, as they arranged themselves into a loosely defensive formation – two of Cosmos flanking both him and Sephiroth, and one on Jecht, and began heading south.

Tifa was gone. Sephiroth was acting strangely. And apparently all that was left of Chaos stood here – not even Golbez had been spared.

Vague suspicions had begun to form in the back of his mind.

He’d survived a lot of cycles. Not as many as Garland, or even Golbez, but more than most.

Enough for his memories to become distressingly complete. Enough that he’d started to wonder about the deeper truth behind this conflict. Enough to doubt.

Tifa was _gone_.

Now, he truly didn’t have anything left to lose.

 

………………….

 

Cecil walked quietly alongside Cloud. It wasn’t a long journey back to Sanctuary – three days at the most.

Terra and Tidus ghosted near Sephiroth– they seemed the most at ease with the warriors of Chaos, and having learnt of their former allegiances, that made sense. An innate sense of familiarity made them less prone to nervousness; no doubt in the same way the rest of them had found it comparatively easy to accept Jecht. Hadn’t that been a shock – to discover the sweet timid girl and the bright, cheerful swordsman had once been their _enemies_.

It made him rethink everything they thought they knew about Chaos.

He wasn’t the only one undergoing a major shift in perceptions – Onion Knight had, after a good deal of indecision, torn himself away from Terra in order to appoint himself one of the sentries watching Cloud, apparently so he could badger him with questions more so than keep an eye on him.

“So how come _you_ remember everything, then?”

"If you survive to the end of the cycle, you don't undergo Purification. You keep your memories."

Talking to Cloud was an education on how this world worked. None of Cosmos's champions could remember the previous cycles. Jecht couldn't either. Sephiroth had at one point claimed to remember as far back as the beginning of the last cycle, but rarely deigned to acknowledge their _existence_ , much less their questions.

It proved everything Garland had said true. And that was more disturbing than any of them wanted to admit.

“So how far back can you remember then?” Onion Knight soaked up the information like a sponge – Cecil could see the wheels spinning behind his eyes. He was clearly in his element.

The shaky intake of breath at that question caught him by surprise. When he turned to look, however, Cloud’s expression was carefully neutral.

"…I've seen the dragon's coming nine times."

_Nine cycles?_

“You were undefeated that long?” Onion Knight was clearly flabbergasted.

Sephiroth had drifted close enough to hear. "Hmph. It's easy enough to survive when you spend all of your time hiding."

Cloud glowered at the swordsman, but didn't say anything in his defence.

He didn't need to. He'd gone up against Chaos, _alone_. They could accuse Cloud of many things, but being a coward wasn't one of them.

“What does he mean?” Cecil asked, in an effort to diffuse the building tension.

“At the start of the last cycle, I pulled myself out of the fighting,” he muttered.

“Because of… what was it… Tifa?” Onion Knight asked.

There was a hitch in Cloud’s step, but he didn’t otherwise react. “No. I only found out about her later.”

He didn’t volunteer any further information. He was much quieter and withdrawn than the other Chaos warriors they’d met. Not unfriendly, not exactly. Just… standoffish.

Cecil realised, in a moment of insight, that he’d probably fought most of them before, even if they couldn’t remember it. He would have just as much trouble relaxing around them as they did him.

“I don’t understand.” Their youngest comrade couldn’t let it go. “If what you’re saying is true, and that even if we die, we’ll just get reborn without our memories again every Purification, why isn’t this Tifa person isn’t around anymore?”

"Sometimes, if the body is too damaged..." Here his expression grew tight, and closed off. "...They won't survive the Purification."

"It looks as though if Chaos or Cosmos were weakened, that too has an effect," Sephiroth added from a short distance away, sounding intrigued. “From what I heard, Kuja was not so badly damaged, yet still he was lost.”

Cloud sent another half-hearted glare in Sephiroth’s direction.

“Kuja?”

“One of ours,” was all Cloud said on that topic, and then very deliberately steered their path further away from Sephiroth. The swordsman watched them go with a wry smirk.

“You’re still worried about him?” Cecil was not nearly as insatiable as Onion Knight, but he couldn’t entirely contain his curiosity.

“He probably hasn’t remembered as much as he thinks he has,” Cloud muttered.

They walked in silence for a few minutes – Onion Knight was clearly busy mulling over the new information he’d learned. Cecil gathered his courage, and took advantage of the lull to ask the question that had been haunting him for days.

“Did you… did you know my brother very well?”

Glowing blue eyes turned on him in question. Hastily, Cecil explained, “Golbez.”

Comprehension dawned. “So that’s who...” he murmured. “What happened to him?”

His throat grew tight, but he forced the words out all the same. “When we found him, I tried to convince him to switch sides. But he refused, and I was forced to…” The words died on his tongue.

“…I see.” Cloud watched the horizon as they walked, gaze turned distant. “He had a plan to end the conflict, I think. I might have messed it up when I killed Chaos. But I don’t know what it was.”

“I’ve been trying to understand what he was thinking,” Cecil confessed. “You and Jecht and Sephiroth could put aside your allegiance with Chaos. Why couldn’t he?” A note of frustration crept into his voice.

“Did he say anything?”

“He asked me… if peace was what I desired most,” Cecil recalled softly. It had seemed like such a pointless question at the time, and grew only more incomprehensible in light of his brother’s actions afterwards.

“Peace.” Cloud muttered. “I wonder if that’s what he meant.”

 

……………………..

 

As one, the three warriors of Chaos convulsed. The rest of them stopped, hovering anxiously as wisps of darkness seeped from their shuddering forms.

“It’s happening more frequently,” Tidus commented in a low voice, casting a nervous eye over his father. When he noticed the others looking, he scowled and turned away.

“Cosmos will be able to help, right?” Terra asked, hands clasped. “They shouldn’t have to just… fade away.”

“It’s nothin’!” Jecht grumbled, hauling himself back to his feet. Sephiroth and Cloud followed suit, and kept walking without another word. “We’ll be fine.”

Tidus followed along quietly, mood unusually subdued – luckily, no one noticed, or if they did, put it down to concern about his father.

No one had said anything about it yet, but the conflict was over now, wasn’t it? Once they returned to Cosmos, that would be it. Cosmos would accept them into their ranks, or they’d have to fight. Either way, it would all end.

What would happen then?

 

……………………..

 

They were less than a day away from Sanctuary when they came across the first manikins they’d seen in weeks.

“Manikins!” Firion warned.

Most of them dropped into defensive stances – bar, of course, the three agents of Chaos.

Then felt rather foolish when the trio of crystalline dolls continued their aimless wandering – clearly aware of their presence, but apparently completely nonplussed by it.

“They don’t seem to be attacking,” Terra said softly.

“I didn’t even think there were any left.” Onion Knight walked up a little closer, just out of arm’s reach, but the manikins drifted away from him, rather than making any move to attack.

“Heh. Guess old goldie didn’t manage to round them _all_ up,” Jecht gruffly remarked.

Cloud simply watched the manikins’ listless wandering in silence.

“That’s not normal behaviour,” Sephiroth drawled. They all jerked at the unexpected words. He glanced at his fellow Chaos warriors curiously. “Did either of you issue them any commands?”

They both shook their heads. “Interesting,” he murmured, then wandered back to the outer edges of the group.

“What exactly _are_ the manikins, anyway?” Onion Knight sent a questing look at Cloud – he had turned out to be their most reliable source of information in this world, after all.

He caught the glance, and sighed. “I don’t know. The manikins are fairly new. We only found them a couple of years ago.”

Firion made a choking sound. “ _Years_?”

A horrid new thought began to settle over them.

Cloud, misunderstanding their reaction, nodded. "This cycle's new – only a few weeks old. The last one lasted maybe a couple of years. Normally, the cycle goes a lot longer.” His voice dropped. “Maybe because of the manikins. Or maybe because I killed Chaos."

“But you’re not that old!” It was hard to guess, but he couldn’t have been more than a couple of years older than the rest of them. Certainly not as old as Jecht, or even Sephiroth.

"Time doesn't flow naturally in this world," Cloud murmured. "The sun doesn't rise, doesn't set. People don't age."

Their gazes turned as one to the overarching sky, a gradient of blues and reds locked in perpetual twilight.

"We've been here that long?" Onion Knight's voice trembled.

Glowing eyes skated across the group. "Not all of you." He didn't specify who.

Firion seemed almost faint. "Exactly how long, for you?"

Cloud’s stare looked hollow. "…I lost count a long time ago."

Not months. Years. _Decades_. Maybe even _centuries_.

_Nine times_ he’d seen the dragon come, he said. And those were only the ones he could account for.

“Garland _did_ say as much,” Cecil reminded them shakily.

“Yeah, but he said all kinds of crazy things!” Tidus shuddered. “Didn’t you say he was going on about how the experiment was a failure and how he’d rather die than keep living in a world without Chaos?”

Cloud stiffened at the word ‘experiment’. Sephiroth, too, seemed to tense – though he was so disaffected by everything around him, they weren’t sure if he were even listening, sometimes.

Jecht cracked his knuckles a few times, as though itching for a fight he couldn’t have. “Yeah, I didn’t know him real well, but he sure was a weird one. Some kind of mad scientist lurking in there. Heh. First scientist I ever met that could fight like that, though!”

“So it was true.” Firion murmured. “I didn’t really believe it, honestly.”

Cecil bowed his head, white hair shrouding his pale face. “What I don’t understand is why Cosmos never told us any of this.”

"You have too much faith in your goddess," Cloud stated bluntly. "Seems to me, she hasn't sent you home like she promised."

They didn’t have an argument for that. They were left only with tense silence.

Sanctuary was only hours away.

 

…………………..

 

“Agents of Chaos!” the Warrior of Light stepped in front of Cosmos, shield raised.

“Hey, wait! You don’t need to worry,” Tidus said, running to the front of the group. “ _We_ brought them here.”

Which failed to make the Warrior of Light relax at all. He eyed the newcomers with open disapproval. “What is the meaning of this?”

“We’ve taken care of everyone else, but these three don’t want to fight,” Cecil explained. He nodded towards the remaining champions of Chaos. “This is Sephiroth. This is Jecht – he’s Tidus’s father. And this is Cloud – he’s the one who killed Chaos.”

_That_ caught the Zidane, Bartz, and Squall’s attention – their eyes swivelled as one to focus on the spiky-haired blond. The Warrior of Light raised his shield. Cosmos, for her part, stared at them in solemn silence.

Cecil appealed to her. “Cosmos, isn’t there any way you can share with them some of your power, and bring them over to our side? They’ll vanish without Chaos, and they’re not our enemies anymore.”

“Impossible,” the Warrior of Light cut in. “It would be foolhardy to accept traitors into our ranks.”

“Hey, it turns out me and Terra are traitors too!” Tidus protested, crossing his arms. “And my old man used to work for Cosmos!”

The revelation seemed to rock the knight. “Is this true?”

Terra nodded, as did Cloud. They turned to Cosmos next, who merely intoned, “It is good to see you again, Jecht. I was sorry to lose you to the darkness.”

“Heh.” Jecht grinned, rubbing the back of his hand against the stubble on his chin. “Wish I could say the same, but I can’t remember a damn thing!”

Zidane scratched his head, tail curling. “Really? Huh.” He turned to the others. “This is a good thing then, right? The fighting’s over!”

Everyone broke out into chatter, until Cosmos folded her hands in her lap. A hush fell over the group as they looked expectantly towards their Goddess.

“Very well,” Cosmos said, her voice tinkling like bells. “If they truly wish for an end to the fighting, then I will-”

“Wait a minute.”

The quiet voice cleaved through the air like a scythe.

Cloud stepped forward, Buster Sword resting on his shoulder and glowing eyes unusually bright. “I never agreed to anything like that.”


	4. Chapter 4

Cecil looked betrayed - Sephiroth, intrigued.  The rest reacted with varying degrees of surprise and alarm, but Cloud didn't pay them any mind.  His focus rested solely on the pale goddess before him.

“Then what are your intentions?” the Warrior of Light demanded.

Cloud didn’t even look at him – instead addressing Cosmos. “I came here to talk to you, not join your side.” He paused, and added, “I want answers.”

Cosmos simply regarded him with a blank gaze and peaceable expression. “What is it you wish to know?”

“I want to know what happens when the last of Chaos’s power is gone from this world.”

She closed her eyes. “The fighting will end.”

“That’s not what I was asking!” he snapped. Out of the corner of his vision, he saw several Cosmos warriors reach for their swords at his raised tone. Sephiroth, in turn, adjusted his grip on Masamune, eyeing them with an eerie shadow of a smile.

Having _Sephiroth_ guarding his back might have been the most unexpected development yet. He _definitely_ hadn’t remembered everything.

He tried a different tact. “What exactly are your goals? What did you start this war for in the first place?”

“Wait,” Bartz interrupted, confused. “Wasn’t it _Chaos_ who started this? _You_ guys are the ones who want to keep fighting!”

“It was Cosmos who started summoning warriors to begin with. Maybe you should ask why she never told you _that_.” His fingers wrapped around the hilt of his sword, but he didn’t draw it. Not yet.

A ripple passed through the warriors of Harmony. They broke out into shouting and chatter. Cloud ignored them – simply stared the goddess down, waiting for her answer.

“Cosmos.” Terra’s voice was but a whisper, but it slowly gained strength as she spoke. “Is it true?”

“There’s no way!” Zidane protested. “Cosmos wouldn’t-”

And finally, she spoke.

“There was… disagreement,” she replied, sorrowful. “After we made pact with ShinRyuu, I could no longer contain his destructive nature. There was no choice.”

Bartz nodded eagerly. “See?”

“Sorry. I don’t buy it,” Cloud stated flatly. “It doesn’t add up. Why would you care so much about ending the fighting, if you started it in the first place?”

Cosmos was silent for a long moment. Then slowly, she raised her arm.

There was no warning. His earlier caution was all that let Cloud bring his sword around in time. Light blasted against the flat of his blade, burning with roaring white heat. Darkness leapt from his form, swirling and lashing, as though to fight back. Cloud grit his teeth, digging in his heels, bracing against the shuddering energy. His gloves smoked, fingers blistering in the wash of power as they struggled to hold the Buster steady. __

“Cosmos?!” The warriors of Harmony recoiled in shock.

Then there was a flash of silver and a whoosh of leather. The light died, and a familiar form stepped in front of him.

“I see,” Sephiroth drawled, Masamune brandished somewhat casually. “This explains a great deal.” He slanted an amused glance in his direction. “Have you reached the same conclusion, Cloud?”

He shifted his stance, and didn’t answer. He thought he knew now, but he still wanted to hear it for himself. “Why is it,” he said, “that you so desperately need to destroy what’s left of Chaos? I already said I didn’t come here to fight.”

“You seek to create disorder.” She had the air of a mother disappointed in a child. “You would rebel against harmony.” She raised her arm again, and Cloud dropped into a defensive stance, Buster Sword held flat in front of him.

“Cosmos!” Cecil pleaded.

She stared at the paladin as though perplexed. “You desire peace, do you not? Was that not the answer you gave your brother?”

Aghast, Cecil could not even bring himself to speak.

“So that’s how it is,” Cloud said. “You’ll do what you were created to do, even after Chaos is gone.”

“What do you mean?” Onion Knight demanded.

Sephiroth smirked, and answered for him. “Your beloved goddess is nothing more than an artificial construct. A puppet, playing at god.”

If it hadn’t been for Cecil’s mention of Garland’s last words, Cloud doubted either of them would have figured it out – would have linked that comment with Chaos’s tortured soliloquies and raging rants, or Cosmos’s baffling behaviour. But that blank, focused gaze, the deliberate and cautious manner of speech – he recognised it now. In himself. In Terra. The ghost of it in Kuja.

Even, to a degree, in Sephiroth.

It was only a theory. But clones and experiments had a tendency to react in certain ways. Some struggled to discover their humanity and assert their free will. Others, like Sephiroth – like  _Chaos_ \- lashed out at the world and all who wronged them in revenge.

Some never made it that far, and forged ahead with their directive without ever truly comprehending why.

“It’s clear to me now. Your goal is to impose _order_.” Sephiroth soaked the word in disdain. “And Chaos…”

“He would not obey.” Her voice had gained new harmonics – reverberations of power. “That has always been my purpose.”

“Control,” Cloud murmured.

He’d started to suspect, when he saw Jecht and Tidus as part of the same group, and when Sephiroth had put in such a half-hearted attempt at a fight. It had been all but confirmed when he saw the manikins.

Chaos had been a monster. That fact was indisputable. He'd been like a destructive child, filled with hate. His grudge against Cosmos had been more than a struggle between forces of light and darkness – it had been deeply personal, full of resentment and rebellion and gloating, a history that spanned longer than even these cycles.

Cosmos, by comparison, had been impossible to understand. Until now.

“To end the fighting,” she responded plaintively, speech cured with innocence. “A world of Harmony.” Her effervescent glow seemed to brighten at the words. "Eternal peace."

"No thanks," Cloud said. "I wouldn't want to live in such a place."

Now he understood why he’d wound up on Chaos’s side. Why Golbez had. Terra, and Kuja, and Tidus. All the warriors who didn’t quite fit.

“I don’t understand.” Onion Knight, again, trying to make sense of things in a world so lacking in it.

“Hmph. It’s simple,” Sephiroth said, swishing Masamune once, as though to punctuate his words. “Once the last vestiges of Chaos disappear, her powers are absolute. Your opinions cease to matter. Absolute harmony.”

“You mean our free will-?”

Harmony. Fighting for peace. Disorder. Fighting for freedom.

He'd stay at war forever, if it meant the difference between being a blank puppet and making his own decisions.

The Warrior of Light was first to notice the shift – he moved swiftly to stand by his goddess, sword at the ready. “You will not harm Cosmos.”

Sephiroth smirked. “So eagerly does the puppet give up its freedom.”

Cloud’s fingers twitched, but he reminded himself that for once, the words weren’t aimed at  _him_.

Jecht pulled his sword from where he’d planted in it the white sand. “I don’t really get it,” he announced gruffly. “But I don’t much like the idea of dancing to somebody else’s tune. Guess I’m with Chaos after all!”

“Come on, guys,” Zidane pleaded. “There’s gotta be a way around this! We’re all friends here!” He turned to the Goddess. “Cosmos! Can’t you just send us home?”

“…I cannot.”

Absolute silence.

“Cosmos, you mean…” Zidane’s voice grew hoarse on the last note.

She closed her eyes – long, platinum gold curls tumbling over her shoulders, light seeming to dim in response to their anguish. “I know of no way out of this world.”

“But you summoned us here!”

“…I am sorry. I do not recall how we came to this world in the first place. I cannot send you home, as I do not know the way myself.”

It wasn’t any news to Cloud, but the devastation in Cosmos’s ranks was stark.

Squall, who’d be quiet up until this point, scowled and rested his gunblade on his shoulder. “I get it. Once all of Chaos was gone, it wouldn’t matter anymore, would it? We couldn’t bring ourselves to disagree with you.”

She remained unmoved, her expression filled with genuine incomprehension and confusion. “An end to the fighting,” she recited. “Is this not enough? Was this not what you wanted? To purge the evils from this world?”

"I think," Terra began hesitantly, "I think I would pay the price of evil, if it meant giving up who we are."

"That's right!" Onion Knight declared, quick to leap to Terra’s defence. "Harmony is pointless if it's forced upon us!"

"Which is better?" Cecil mused. "A forced peace, or a free war?"

"I'll choose freedom, every time," Cloud said. His fingers tightened on his Buster sword. “Sorry, Cosmos. But if that’s what you’re planning to do…” He drew his weapon. “I’ll stop you.”

The battle lines were drawn. Terra and Onion Knight had moved to stand with the three Chaos warriors. Squall didn’t join them, but the slight shift in his stance had him clearly on their side regardless.

The remainder dithered for a moment. Then Firion squared his shoulders, and stood with Cosmos. “I’m sorry, but my dream… doesn’t involve any more fighting.”

Bartz nodded, and joined him. “Bartz! Come on! Why?” Zidane pleaded.

“Sorry Zidane,” he said with a shrug and a sad smile. “I don’t think I really understand everything that’s going on, but so long as this world stays safe, I’m sticking with Cosmos.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Cecil too moved to stand with Cosmos, pearly-white armour glistening in the reflection of the goddess’s ambient light. Onion Knight let out a small breath, a plea not given voice. “You sure?” Cloud asked, in his stead.

Slowly, Cecil nodded, as though the motion pained him. “My brother… he sacrificed himself, so that I might have this. He knew he could not accept such a world, and so… I cannot turn my back on that.”

That left only Tidus. Cloud eyed him. He’d originally been with Chaos, but a lot could have changed since then.

Tidus looked between both sides, an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face. Then, with measured, certain steps, he went to stand with Harmony.

“What’s that about, boy?” Jecht growled. “This ain’t the time for another one of your petty grudges.”

Tidus clenched a fist – as always, his father drawing anger out of him when no others could. “Shut up! It’s not like that!” He cut the air with his arm. “What about you, huh? How much have you remembered about where we come from? What’s left for us if we… if we go back…” His words faltered.

Jecht growled. “Enough to know I’m not gonna let myself get controlled by some so-called god ever again!”

They glared at each other. Cloud took quick stock of the situation. Almost even in numbers. And considering Cosmos was on the other side, that didn’t bode well for them at all.

That was ok. Cloud was used to having the odds stacked against him.

Besides, Tifa was gone. He didn’t have anything else left to protect.

Sephiroth slanted him a glance. “We cannot rely too heavily on those affiliated with Cosmos.” He made a small sound of amusement. “Even _I_ am starting to find her arguments attractive.”

Cloud nodded. For a while now, he’d felt the mounting pressure – the urge to give in to passivity, to take the path of least resistance, the lure of peace. Standing here before Cosmos, it felt almost crushing, an invisible fatigue sapping his will. How much worse for someone without that shred of Chaos’s power sustaining them?

“Just keep them busy,” Cloud said. “ _I’ll_ take care of Cosmos.”

The Goddess, for her part, simply regarded him with a mixture of sad disappointment and incomprehension. “Is your will to fight so strong?”

“I lost my will to fight a long time ago.” He raised his sword. “But I kept fighting anyway.”

…………………..

The katana glanced off his shield, the sharp ring whispering in his ears. The Warrior of Light pivoted, striking with his sword, but Sephiroth whirled away with such casual grace it barely looked as though he’d moved at all.

“You will not harm Cosmos,” he stated firmly.

Sephiroth merely smirked at him. “You are no different from her, in the end. Allow me to do you the favour of ending your pitiful existence.” He struck again, blindingly fast. Honed fighting instincts had the Warrior of Light turning the blow aside on his shield, attacking in turn. “Do you expect me to believe that you truly have no doubts?” Sephiroth goaded.

“I do not expect _anything_ from you.” The bold statement was followed with an equally bold strike. He chanced the opening to glance away, searching for a glimpse of blonde curls and shining white fabric. He needed to protect her! He didn’t have the time to fight this cur! Not when the forces of darkness had turned their own allies against Cosmos!

“You’re a fool if you think you can worry about others while fighting me.” Sephiroth caught the slash, his blade angling for his throat in the lock. Hastily, the Warrior of Light raised his shield, twisting away. The sword sheared off the top half of one of his helmet’s horns instead. It hit the ground with a metallic splash. “At the very least, offer me the pleasure of a _challenge_ before you die.”

Then Sephiroth swept forward, a whirl of black and silver, and the Warrior of Light had no choice but to throw himself into the fray.

………………..

“We’re friends, aren’t we?” Firion asked. “We shouldn’t be fighting.”

Gunpowder exploded in staccato bursts all around them, blasts ringing in their ears. “It’s  _because_ we’re friends that I’m going to stop you,” Squall replied.

He ducked, feeling the scorching embers sizzle against his exposed fingers. The rationale behind the black gloves Squall always sported made sense now.

The gunblade was a bad match for him. He’d mastered eight different kinds of weapons, yet Squall’s, while initially familiar, was more like fighting a short-range lightweight _cannon_ than a sword. And the clouds of gunpowder he tossed in his wake nullified what little magic Firion could command.

He tossed his axe on a line – Squall side-stepped it, retaliating with a hail of ice. Nothing too dangerous, but it ruined his aim and slowed him down. Hastily, he reeled the weapon back in, barely dodging the following slash.

With every strike, new memories flashed before his eyes. It ached, a pain in his heart he could not reach.

Firmly, he set his emotions aside. “That’s a shame,” he said, “I don’t intend to let you!”

Battle was not the place for regrets or doubt. He’d fought comrades led astray before. If necessary, he could do it again.

_For the wild rose. For the sort of world that can be filled with fields of flowers._

Firion notched another arrow.

………………….

Two friends. Two comrades in arms.

Suddenly, enemies.

Standing across from him, Bartz scratched the nape of his neck, short brown hair sliding between his fingers. “I really don’t want to fight you,” he admitted. Explosions rocked Sanctuary, sending ripples through the still waters. Squall, he guessed. Maybe Terra.

Zidane struggled to understand. “Then why side with Cosmos? Can’t you see? She’s been using us! If we do what she wants, we lose everything!”

He shook his head. “I hear you, but I can’t just abandon the cause we’ve been fighting for so long.” He gave a determined nod. “An end to the fighting is a cause worth fighting for.”

“Don’t you care about your freedom?!”

“What’s so free about being forced to fight for our lives all the time?” Bartz gave a shrug, and a small smile. He seemed to know already he wouldn’t be able to change Zidane’s mind – he didn’t even try.

Bartz was a go-with-the-flow kind of guy. He didn’t question the whys or hows – Zidane _knew_ that. Appreciated it, even. He threw himself into the fight because it was asked of him. It seemed like a good cause, so he stuck with it. He might not have thought anything bad about the _individuals_ on the other side, but he’d clearly decided, using simple logic, that they had to be mistaken.

Bartz had always been so free. What few memories he had to share made that plainly clear. Maybe, having never been truly denied it, he simply couldn’t appreciate what he had.

Zidane didn’t remember much, but it had been combing back in trickles.

 _Kuja_. _Garland_.

And he knew _he_ could never accept such a world.

He flicked his daggers into his hands, unable to keep the pain from his voice. “Stand aside, Bartz. Just don’t do anything, and we won’t have to fight.”

A pair of daggers – mirrors of his own – appeared in the Mimic’s grip. “Sorry Zidane.” There was regret there, laced with steely determination. “No can do.”

………………..

Onion Knight kept an eye on the whole battlefield. A part of him – the intellectual part – said that he should really go help Cloud, who was going up against Cosmos all by himself. The blinding flashes of white light that occasionally lit up Sanctuary reinforced that opinion.

There was a much louder part of him that insisted he stick with Terra.

He justified it – with he and Terra working together, they could incapacitate Cecil faster, and  _then_ go help Cloud. Cloud would be fine – he’d defeated a god _before_ , after all. He might not even _need_ their help! Besides, he was _Terra’s_ Knight, and he couldn’t leave her to fight on her own!

Clad in black armour, Cecil swung with his lance. Terra skipped backwards, sending out a burst of flame that scorched his ankles. He bit down the urge to cheer her – it was _Cecil_ they were fighting after all, and he was fighting for someone too. Onion Knight didn’t agree, but… Cecil had been one of those he trusted _most_. He’d always been so _sensible_ and _knightly_ , not like some of the others.

His sharp eyes caught the familiar stance, and he darted in, pushing aside the heavy strike from the dark knight’s lance with a quick slash of his dirk. Terra caught her breath at his back. “We can knock him out without hurting him too much,” he whispered to her. “We just need to get him out of that helmet. Can you keep it up a little while longer?”

She nodded, delicate features set in determination. She let loose a salvo of lightning, then a barrage of ice.

“Cleansing Light!” Swiftly, Cecil switched back to paladin, magic shimmering around his form. He moved much faster in the lighter armour – thus was no longer a sitting duck for Terra’s spells.

Unfortunate for him, Onion Knight was quicker by far. And now, Cecil was no longer wearing a helmet.

………………..

“You’re a brat, you know that?” Jecht bellowed. His sword whooshed heavily through the air –Tidus jumped clear, not even bothering to _try_ and block it.

“I can’t _stand_ you!” he shouted back. “You don’t ever think about anyone other than yourself!”

“Look who’s talking!” The thick fist slammed into his abdomen like a blitzball made of lead. The breath jumped from his lungs – Tidus was thrown back, and hit the ground with a shallow splash, momentum sending him tumbling head over heels.

Even under the circumstances, a grin tugged at his lips.

 _This_ was how it was supposed to be!

He dragged himself back to his feet, and in a blur of movement, dashed forward and returned the punch in kind. His father let out a satisfying grunt of pain, though managed to keep his feet. “Not bad! But you’re gonna have to do better than that!”

It was satisfying. Tidus forgot about everything else – about Cosmos, about Chaos, about the cycles or the similar skirmishes going on around them. All that mattered was teaching his old man a long-overdue _lesson_. “Bring it!”

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

 

She stood, largely still as a statue on the battle field, magic lashing around her. When she did move, she floated like a petal on the wind – weightless and graceful.

Cloud leapt over a blast of blinding white energy, twisting his body mid-air, slashing with his sword. Cosmos vanished, reappearing at his flank.

"You are an agent of discord," she said, expression mournful, pitying. "You sow divisions among friends. There is conflict in your heart."

"Maybe so," he said. "But it's _my_ decision." He slashed the air, sending a blue stream of energy slicing off his blade. She didn’t have the same kind of blind spots Chaos had, but she was slow on the draw. He took advantage, pressing the attack, keeping her on the defensive.

Her veil fluttered as a shield of light shimmered, blocking his strike. Cloud grunted at the unexpected resistance, and kicked off it, somersaulting in the air. He gathered magic, and the sky filled with flaming rocks. Nothing compared to a _goddess’s_ magic, but nothing she could simply brush off, either.

“I do not understand,” she said as the flames cleared, “This is destiny. This is how things should be. Why is it that you fight so hard against peace?” Cosmos truly thought she was doing the best for her warriors.

“I pity you,” was all he said in reply. “You don’t get it at all.”

There were a lot of worlds out there. More than he’d ever imagined. And it was chilling to realise that somewhere out there, there had been a scientist just as terrible, and even more brilliant, than Hojo.

Maybe, if things had turned out a little differently, Cosmos could have come to understand them in the end. Maybe if _she_ had been the one who’d been cornered, if Cloud hadn’t struck at Chaos, and Harmony’s defeat had been allowed to take its inevitable course. Maybe if all hope of fulfilling her purpose had disappeared, she could have eventually been freed of it.

It hadn’t worked out like that.

Cloud rolled to the side, barely evading another blast of burning white energy. Globes of light burst around him like deadly fireworks. He brushed them aside with a wide sweep of his blade, ignoring the burns licking up his bare arms, the scrapes and bruises he’d picked up from his desperate tumbles. He dashed forward, lifting his sword high.

Then suddenly, a chance. Cosmos paused, rock-still, attention captured by something off to the side. Her lips pursed, as though to form a word…

Cloud struck true.

Cosmos staggered. He swept into an omni-slash – too fast for even her magic to whisk her away. He struck again, and again, each slash deep and infused with energy.

Then, on the last, his boots hit the white sand with a heavy thud, and energy burst behind him like thunder. He whirled, ready with his blade, but Cosmos was engulfed in a stream of white light, motes of power leeching from her.

She made no sound. She simply sent a pained, mournful look at some point past him, and then the light flashed, blinding him. Rumbling shockwaves sent a wave through the still waters, sloshing over his boots and roaring in his ears.

When the brightness faded, Cosmos had vanished.

And just like that, it was over.

Cloud took a deep, shaky breath. His arms trembled – only now was his fatigue making itself known to him, only now did he realise exactly how far he’d pushed his body to move fast enough, strike _hard_ enough, to fight a goddess. He pushed it aside, along with the gathered aches and burns.

They’d done it. _He’d_ done it.

They were free.

The battlefield had fallen ominously silent behind him. Belatedly, Cloud turned, to see what it was that had caught Cosmos’s attention at the crucial moment.

His blood ran cold.

The Warrior of Light stood there, arm still outstretched, mouth vainly struggling to form a word. “Cos….mos…”

Masamune protruded through his chest.

“Light shall be laid to rest here,” Sephiroth drawled, and yanked the blade free. The knight slumped to the ground in a clatter of armour. His helmet – one horn cut in half – rolled away, letting loose grey hair fall free to frame blank, lifeless eyes.

No sooner than the body had fallen did Sephiroth set upon Firion. The warrior had been stunned to see the Goddess fall, and was too slow to draw. In one stroke, Sephiroth knocked the first weapon from his hand, and slew him on the next. The rebel dropped to the ground, blood spreading like a crimson cloud in the shallow water.

“Wait!” Zidane yelled. “We’ve won! There’s no more point to fighting!”

With a glint in his glowing green eyes, Sephiroth turned on the thief next. Zidane let out a cry of alarm, daggers flashing as he spun to avoid the deadly sweep of the katana. He let out a wild burst of energy, forcing the swordsman away, but it caught him only a breath. He choked, eyes widening, as Masamune ran him through.

“Zidane!” Bartz cried. With a roar of anger, far throatier than anyone expected from the lithe Mimic, he charged, Brave Blade in hand.

They clashed, blades singing, but for all his borrowed techniques, Bartz was not Sephiroth’s equal as a swordsman, and rage dulled his skill even as it enhanced his strength. Soon enough, he too fell, clutching his bleeding gut as the life fled from his eyes.

“Pitiful,” Sephiroth remarked. “I don’t understand how any of you lasted this long.” In a swish of leather, he vanished, reappearing behind Tidus, blade raised. The blitzballer scarcely had time to widen his eyes.

There was a whoosh of air and a tanned blur. Jecht smashed into Tidus, knocking him clear. Masumune glanced across his chest, dragging a finger deep gash through his flesh.

“Sacrificing yourself so readily?” Sephiroth drawled. “I expected better of you.”

Jecht dropped to a knee, braced against his sword, even as crimson ran in rivers down his torso. His voice was gruff and pained. “Yeah, well, that makes two of us, don’t it?” He struggled to push himself to his feet, but the effort proved too much, and he slumped to the ground, fresh blood spilling forth with every heaving breath.

“Dad!” Tidus let out a strangled cry, running to his side. Glowing green eyes tracked his path, fingers tightening around the katana’s slender hilt…

This time, Cloud was the one who moved, summoning energy he didn’t know he had left to dash between them. Steel rang against steel, Buster sword pressing back against Masamune’s deadly strike.

“ _This_ is a surprise.” Sephiroth leaned forward, eyes half-lidded, close enough for silver hair to brush against his arms. “Rediscovered a taste for fighting?”

With a heavy slash, he drove Sephiroth away. The SOLDIER glided back a few steps, unbothered. “How could you?” he asked, though he wasn’t really surprised. He’d expected something like this all along.

“How could I not?” he asked, tone mockingly philosophical. “It suited me to play along, until you removed the last true obstacle for me. And now…” he slid into stance once more. “ _I_ shall be the god of the new world.”

Cloud shifted his grip on Buster sword. Exhaustion dragged on his limbs, but he readied himself to fight anyhow.

“You’ve done well until now, Cloud,” Sephiroth said. “But I have no more use for you.”

As he made to step forward, though, flames exploded at his feet. A wall of heat brushed his face as Sephiroth’s form was consumed with hungry fire.

“You monster!” Terra had tear tracks running down her face, a faint glow beginning to surround her, mere moments from breaking into full esper form.

The SOLDIER wasn’t so easily taken down. He swept free of the flames, Masamune glinting orange in the firelight. Before he could even take a step towards the girl, though, a bright red form ducked under his reach, dirk flashing. Sephiroth let out a small grunt of pain as the dagger plunged into his leg. Before he could retaliate, Onion Knight had darted back out of reach, and a third form ran forward, silver gunblade bared.

Squall _was_ swordsman enough to hold his own against Sephiroth. The air filled with the clash of metal and thunder of gunshots. Cloud tracked the battle, and the moment his foe gained the slightest advantage, rushed his back. Sephiroth twisted away, evading them both… straight into the whirling tornadoes surrounding Terra.

The savage winds tore his coat ragged, cutting fine lacerations across his skin. Forced on the backfoot, Sephiroth whirled away. A black wing unfurled from his back, scattering black feathers in the air.

He was going to make an escape.

“Not today.” Cloud forced tired legs to launch him into the air.

Sephiroth slipped to the side, the tip of the Buster slicing through a sheathe of feathers. Masamune flashed – cutting through his shirt, grazing his ribs. Cloud wrenched away, lashing out with his foot, kicking him square in the gut.

Then Onion Knight was there too – leaping straight from Squall’s shoulder, throwing out balls of lightning. Sephiroth batted two away, but the third caught him, sending him into spasms. His wing seized.

Then he dropped - right into Terra’s blast of pure, chaotic energy.

In the end, there wasn’t much left but a charred, smoking corpse.

Cloud hit the ground with an awkward stumble. The ever-present itch at the back of his skull faded. Quietly, with an arm pressed against his still-bleeding side, he turned to survey the carnage.

In that short window after Cosmos’s fall, Sephiroth had done more damage than any other Chaos warrior before him.

He closed his eyes, taking the moment to centre his focus and push away his fatigue. If only he’d reacted quicker…

With a deep breath, he turned to survey what was left. Squall, Terra, and Onion Knight were a little worse for wear, but holding together for now. Nearby, Tidus knelt over Jecht’s bleeding form.

“You’re crying, aren’t you? You’re such a crybaby. Stop crying,” Jecht groused. His normally gravelly voice was strained and oddly wet. There was a lot of blood staining the water. Too much. More than even a potion might hope to fix.

Tidus sniffed. “I _hate_ you. Why did you have to go do a thing like that, huh?”

“Hah!” Jecht let out a huff – somewhere between a laugh and a grunt. “You’re my son, right?”

“Yeah. And you’re my Dad.”

Jecht’s eyes were growing glassy. “That’s right. Even if you’re a crybaby… you’re still my son.” His words grew pained, and breathy, and slowly, his body relaxed.

“Dad? Dad!”

Cloud looked away. Seeing someone give their life for you – he knew what that felt like. Nothing they could do for him. Best to give him space for now.

There _was_ one thing he could do. A short distance away, Cecil knelt, broken on the ground, his allies and goddess all murdered. Blood ran down his pale features - his eyes glassy with shock. His injuries had likely saved his life, marking him as a non-risk, and thus not worth Sephiroth’s immediate notice.

Cloud moved to stand by him. “You okay?” he asked. They might have chosen different sides at the end, but there _were_ no sides anymore.

Cosmos was dead. Just like Chaos.

Dazed, the knight turned his gaze to him. The hollow hopelessness in the stare spoke volumes. “I don’t know. Golbez… brother… what am I supposed to do now?” The words were directed at himself, wretched and pained.

Cloud remained silent for a long moment as he considered his response. “I think… above all else… your brother wanted you to survive.”

Cecil turned pale, haunted eyes on him, but slowly, his expression began to clear.

Onion Knight stepped in then, a familiar blue bottle clutched in his hand. “You need some?” he asked, looking pointedly at the wound in Cloud’s side.

“It’ll take care of itself soon enough,” he murmured, lifting his arm to show the bleeding had already stopped. Onion Knight nodded, and hurried over to Cecil, muttering apologies and explanations and holding the elixir to his lips.

A short time later, the six survivors stood in the centre of Sanctuary. A cold breeze drifted across the white landscape, sending ripples through the shallow water.

Squall rested his gunblade on his shoulder. “So we’re it, huh?”

Terra clasped her hands to her chest, as though in prayer for fallen friends.

“Sorry,” Cloud murmured. “I thought he might be planning something. I just didn’t expect it would turn out like this.”

Squall scowled. “He caught us all off guard.” He eyed the former Chaos warrior with suspicion. “What about you? How do we know we can really trust you?”

He met the stare evenly. “…The conflict’s over. There _are_ no sides, anymore.”

No one had any response for that. The small circle of survivors spoke to its truth eloquently enough.

Tears tracked down Tidus’s face. Angrily, he swiped them away. “So, now what? Shouldn’t we be disappearing?” His voice was hoarse and angry, full of blame, but he made no move to act on it.

“Maybe, with both of them dead, there’s finally balance,” Onion Knight theorised. “Maybe we didn’t need them for _existence_ – maybe we just needed their power to insulate us against the side that would deny us it.”

As theories went, it wasn’t a bad one. Cloud couldn’t sense the dark presence of Chaos’s powers anymore – he’d likely expended the last of it fighting against Cosmos. But neither did he feel that smothering, draining sensation, as though some invisible force was trying to suffocate him out of the world.

“…Then I guess we just have to start looking for a way home,” Squall muttered.

They fell silent as bright light, a harsh gold, filled the air. As one, they turned their faces skyward.

A dragon of light and fire circled the heavens. The fallen bodies shimmered, and rose, streams of their essence drifting in wind, pulled inexorably towards the swirling vortex of power.

ShinRyuu had arrived.

No telling who would be reborn this cycle. Maybe everyone. Maybe no one.

It didn’t matter, though. _They_ were still here. The conflict might have been over, but their journey wasn’t yet finished.

“We’ll survive,” Cecil said softly. “And we’ll find a way home.”

Cloud nodded, eyes tracking ShinRyuu’s path across the sky. Then he turned, and started trudging through the shallow waters. There seemed no point to it – Tifa was dead. The gods were dead. But he still had his freedom, and comrades, this time. Cecil and Tidus and Squall and Terra and Onion Knight. And however long it had been… he still wanted to survive. He still wanted to see his own world, one last time, if only to be sure it hadn’t been a dream.

And maybe, just maybe, Tifa would be there.

But whatever their path, it wouldn't be found here. "...Let's mosey."

 

 

 


End file.
